


Thurenga's Story

by Deksin_Nisked



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe, Magic, magic oppressed, magical and technological society, ruled over by the Syndicate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-12 08:23:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deksin_Nisked/pseuds/Deksin_Nisked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world run by an oppressive regime of a tyrannical ruler who hates any magic he can't control an unlikely crew of cutthroats, mercenaries, and magicians will band together to overthrow his regime and restore balance to the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thurenga's Story

The advertisement had been explicit. He had made doubly sure that nobody would mistake his intentions. Yet these fools kept showing up. He would have to review the sign and, in all likelihood, replace it.

The reprieve had been nice, it had given him a chance to rest his mind and order something to drink. He sat now, nursing that drink, watching a mysterious cloaked figure make its way to the counter. After a brief exchange with the bartender, the figure was pointed to him. As the figure walked toward him, he examined his bearing, as a soldier is wont to do. The figure walked with a heavy gait, someone who was used to battle, and knew how to handle the greatsword slung over its back. It was less a greatsword, really, and more a slab of metal with a handle, it looked heavy, but efficient, as long as its bearer was able to use it. The figure's cloak, worn and tattered, billowed with the air displaced by the man's girth. At least, he assumed it was a man as he had never seen a woman of such seeming size.

"The name's Ferruk," the figure said as it sat down. His voice was deep and gravelly, like an animal that growled with every breath.

"Thurenga Agnorin," he said. "You here about the advertisement?"

"Yup." Ferruk held out his hand, glanced up at Thurenga and then back down at his hand meaningfully. Taking the hint, Thurenga took the hand and shook it warily. Afterwards, Ferruk pulled down his hood. Shocked, Thurenga tried not to stare at the man's many scars. He had too many scars to count and it was probable that no one had. Just looking at his face made Thurenga want to look away out of pity, though he tried not to. He felt that looking away would be the wrong thing to do and would more likely than not result in Ferruk's instant departure. In addition to scars he had grown his bangs out and combed them over, rather hastily, to cover his left eye. His right eye worked all to well and betrayed the intelligence hiding behind his appearance. His gaze was powerful and he could probably sweep grown men aside with the heat of his glare alone.

He turned that gaze now on Thurenga.

"Who will I be working with?" Ferruk said in a low voice.

"At the moment? Just me. The rest of the people who showed up were fools with a sword. I hope you are different." said Thurenga in an equally low voice.

"Not surprised. The average intelligence of the people in this town rates lower than a scairn's."

"Saying something like that—"

A meaty hand clamped down on Ferruk's shoulder as a menacing voice came from above.

"What'd you say?"

After a second of forethought, Ferruk reached up, grabbed the man's hand, and proceeded to violently wrench his wrist around in a full circle. Ferruk growled through gritted teeth, "I said you were stupid. You just proved my point." The man's hand fell to the floor behind Ferruk as he slowly stood up and turned around.

Thurenga sprang up and quickly positioned himself between the two dangerous men.

"We don't need to start a fight in here." Thurenga said in a voice that brooked no argument.

Ferruk swept aside Thurenga as though he were a petulant child and stepped closer to the man missing a hand. As Ferruk stepped toward the man lashed out with his uninjured hand. Ferruk dropped into a fighting stance underneath the man's fist and landed a powerful uppercut on the man's jaw, forcing him into the air. Thurenga watched in disgust as the man's tongue hit the floor with a wet smack. After a few seconds the man started to convulse on the floor as a pool of blood began spreading beneath him.

Noticing for the first time the commotion in his tavern, the bartender rushed over. Immediately, the bartender became business-like. He flipped the man onto his side and cleared the man's mouth, afterwards he motioned for a waitress and told her to run for the healer. 

"There will be no need for a healer tonight." Thurenga had grown calm, speaking impassively. His eyes carried the look of a sage with a hundred years of wisdom. Magic danced in them.

"The man is dy—"

Thurenga's gaze shifted to the bartender. "There will be no need for a healer tonight." He repeated with the same impassive voice. The bartender staggered as though struck and fell silent.

Thurenga crouched down next to the dying man, his eyes glowing more intensely the closer he got. As he reached toward the dying man Thurenga's hands began to glow, he placed both hands on the man, one on his mouth and the other on the ragged stump that used to be his hand. Slowly the man's tongue and hand began to grow back. The hand would be difficult due to the various bone structures in the man's fingers, but he had healed worse before. The tongue would be relatively easy as it was nothing more than a small chunk of muscle. Thurenga directed the magic to his will and in a relatively short amount of time had the man reassembled and trembling in relief. Luckily the wound wasn't deadly or he would have had to draw on his own sorely exhausted stores of endurance.

The crowd that had by now gathered backed up in shock, awe, and for some, fear. The bartender examined the previously dying man only to find the the seemingly serious wounds had completely disappeared. He turned to the crowd and told them to leave as the tavern was closed on account of the man who almost died. The crowd grumbled disappointedly and slowly shuffled out the door. When everyone was gone except for Ferruk, Thurenga, the bartender, and the previously dying man, the bartender rounded on Ferruk.

"You didn't need to kill the man!"

"If you had paid more attention to what went on in your tavern, the man wouldn't have been hurt," Ferruk said with a calm, yet dangerous voice.

The bartender balked and turned to Thurenga, "Thank you for healing him, I didn't need a man dying in my tavern, it's not good for business."

"I only did what I felt obligated to do, after all, it was my fault he was injured."

"Whatever your reasons, thank you again. However, it's no longer safe for you here, one of those fools will likely run for the Syndicate."

"Let them come," Ferruk snorted, "the Syndicate are nothing more than children playing at soldier."

"Nonetheless, they carry the force of law with them," Thurenga cautioned.

"Then we'd best be elsewhere."

"I have a camp set up just outside of town, I doubt the law will find us there."

"Lead the way."

"I have something to take care of first, I'll meet you at the camp." 

After giving Ferruk directions to the camp and paying the bartender for the drink and his silence, Thurenga pushed open the door into the cool night air. Immediately he knew he was in trouble, the night was too still, not a sound was heard. He smelled sweat. Glancing around, Thurenga made note of every viable hiding spot, corners, doorways, and rooftops. Noticing no one, he walked further into the street, he was still uneasy, the darkness seemed tangible, as if a sword could come out of nowhere. Suddenly, a man flew from the shadows to his side, screaming obscenities and swinging a sword wildly in front of him. Thurenga spun forward as he drew his sword, ending the spin with a powerful slice to the man's hamstrings. The man fell to the ground with a grunt and fell silent. Thurenga stood, breathing heavily, his sword hanging from his right hand. He wasn't ready for combat, he was exhausted having only gotten a few minutes of sleep for the past couple of days. Suddenly the night erupted in sound, at least twelve armed men surged forward out of nowhere, in his exhausted state Thurenga couldn't expend energy wondering where they were hiding. As the men converged, Thurenga had a thought that he hadn't had in a while. He was going to die.


End file.
